


In My Arms

by bavarian_angel



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Gen, Guardian Angels, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bavarian_angel/pseuds/bavarian_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You may not be able to see me, but I will be always by your side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Arms

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first work in the Formula 1 fandom and the first finished story in a very long time. After everything that happened in Suzuka I just needed something to get my feelings out. I don't want to show any disrespect in any sort with this story, it's just my way to deal with it.  
> #ForzaJules

It’s cold in the mornings. We’re not even supposed to feel it, but there’s still this strange tingling inside me. Sitting on the steps of this artificial park, I let the rising sun shine into my eyes while my sight is on the lone figure a couple yards away from me. He just finished his morning routine – running the same mileage every day no matter where he is – and is now stretching his legs. His face is turned towards me, but no matter how hard he may try, he will never be able to see me. I on the other side can see everything – the way he has changed over all these years from being a little boy to a grown up man, the feelings he’s trying to hide from the world, the haunted look he has been carrying since the last weekend. I wish I could take it away from him, but I can't. There's nothing I can do, except stand by his side and do my job. A job I didn't exactly sign up to, but I was rather brought over here on a bigger purpose. And it’s not just any job – it’s the reason for my existence.

 

Unfortunately it comes with a long listing of small print. And the most important one was “Don't mess with the plan.” All we do is make sure it is carried out, no matter if we agree with it or not.

 

You know, I’m a member of a very special group. You don't just turn up and be a guardian of a racing driver. Only a few of us receive this privilege, or burden, depending on how you perceive it. We may come in all shapes and sizes, but our main trait is our strength. Not physical as in the world of humans. It's the strength of holding our hands out to our protégées when needed.

 

You have to stand up for your job way more often than a lot of the others. Those humans always say that racing is so much safer these days with their technology and everything, but it's not like we're not needed any more. Of course back in the day we had to stay back way more often, had to watch without being able to do anything. So many young lives destined not to life out their days, leaving behind not just this world, but quite often a shattered guardian as well. However, I wouldn't give up my task for anything else. It just makes me try harder not to miss my calls.

 

I remember very clearly the first day I was called up my boy. He literally was just a boy back then – just over three years old, sitting on the deck of his father's boat and watching the small waves in the harbour while his parents brought their belongings on board. To this day I don't know what it was or what he saw, but the moment he stood up on his tiny legs I heard my call. Before he even started to slip on the slightly wet surface I wrapped my arms around him and didn't let go until he landed safely on the small edge on the side of the boat, just centimetres away from the dark water. Of course there were tears and to this day he still has a small scar on his elbow retelling this story.

 

Since that very first call I heard quite a few over the years. It comes with my and especially his job. And I'm always standing by his side, through the good and the bad times. Sometimes I wish I could protect him from more things that I'm actually capable of. Be it horrible races or disastrous seasons. Be it a friend that he once was inseparable from, whose name he can't even think of without regret any more these days after all those terrible fights and backstabbing words. Be it love that can't be, that he doesn't allow to be because he's not supposed to give his heart to a fellow racing driver – someone he's know for over a decade now, yet short touches and glances after a good race or qualifying have to be enough. You don't know how often my heart shatters for him. I do so much for him, yet not enough.

 

I don't know what the big plan has in store for him. None of us know. Every single day I am by his side and wait for the next call. I don't know when it will come or if the next time will be it – the time I have to stand back and watch. It could be in 60 human years’ time or it could be tomorrow. All I know is that it will hurt. Being unable to feel anything, yet it will still hurt. I know because I can see it with the others – like one of my brothers who is right now sitting in a small hospital room on the other side of the world. I've seen the look in his eyes and I can hear his prayers in my ears which might be heard above or not. He's praying for another call, that this wasn't it, that his task isn't over yet, that this isn't the big punch line to the plan.

 

As the sun rises above my boy and me, a silent sigh reaches my ear. He’s turned his back towards me, his eyes now taking in the sea in front of us. The sigh is followed by a running stream of thoughts, some sad, some angry, some full of regret. I wish I could just go over to him and quite literally wrap my arms around him, but my wish flies away unheard. There is only one thing I would tell him, hoping he could hear me because it's the essence of my existence. _“No matter where you are or what you’re doing – I'm watching out for you.”_


End file.
